


D is for Dusty

by star_named_andy



Series: Alphabet of Love [4]
Category: The Hobbit (1977), The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adorable, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barduil - Freeform, F/M, Kiddie!Bard, Kiddie!Thranduil, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 14:30:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4023418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_named_andy/pseuds/star_named_andy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil visits the farm down the road for the first time and meets someone new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	D is for Dusty

**Author's Note:**

> (Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, or any of its characters or content.)

Today was the big day – well, not _the_ big day, but a very big and important day nonetheless! Today was Thranduil’s first visit to Bard’s house and they’d be planning things out for the battle reenactment. More importantly, Thranduil would be under the watch of Bard’s parents, so he had to make a good impression…a better one than he had that evening he’d thrown a fit in front of them. Maybe they’d forgotten? Boy, he hoped they had or there was no way they’d let him even pretend marry their beautiful son. Why would they want their sweet, good boy to marry one that seemed nasty and horrible? No, Thranduil was a new person and he was determined to show the Bowmans! It was for the sake of his love, and what better reason was there to turn over a new leaf than for love?

He wore nice shorts, a perfectly unwrinkled, white dress shirt with short sleeves (so he wasn’t bothered by the heat), a light vest and a straight, eggplant colored tie – he knew his shades and that would surely be something to flaunt, right? Mr. and Mrs. Bowman would surely think him to be very smart if he showed off his knowledge of colors and their various shades. He wasn’t even there yet and he was off to a good start!

He’d shooed his helper away who had driven him to the Bowman home and insisted he enter with his gifts alone, so there he stood at the door carrying presents and waiting with his chin up high. He knocked on the door with his foot and Bard’s mother appeared in the entryway a mere few seconds later. Before she could speak, he held forward a bouquet of flowers.

“Are these for me?” Runa asked as she took the arrangement and sniffed it delicately.

“Yes, Mrs. Bowman, and I have a cooler of steaks for Mr. Bowman.” The blonde boasted, holding up said item and Runa blinked her wide eyes at him.

“Goodness! Thank you, Thranduil. That’s very sweet of you.”

Eeeheehee, _yes!_ Now he just hoped that Mr. Bowman would be just as pleased about the gifts. Runa let him in and he reminded himself to stop to remove his shoes (a task his parents and the helpers often hounded him about, since he never did it before traipsing about the house). He leaned down to start untying, but the woman of the house told him Bard had said they would be playing outside and allowed Thranduil to wait with his shoes on until Bard came downstairs. She ushered him into the kitchen and gestured for him to sit, and he did so, sitting very upright in his chair as she found a vase for the flowers and put the steaks away.

“How do you like your new house so far, Thranduil?” Runa asked.

“I like it just fine, I suppose. It’s a nice house. You have a nice house too.”

“Thank you, and I’m glad to hear you like both houses. Would you like something to drink or eat?”

“No thank you. Is Mr. Bowman around?”

“He’s outside working.”

“Oh. Alright. Would he mind if I said hello to him?”

“Not at all, sweetie. Just be careful around the tractor.”

Runa turned toward the sink, smiling to herself and trying not to let her laughter come bubbling out; how cute it was that this little boy was trying so hard to be polite. From what Miluiel Greenleaf had told her, Thranduil was the child embodiment of a demon when it came to…well, _anything_. He was an expert at long throwing temper tantrums, ignoring his responsibilities, and just being flat out rude to anyone and everyone he didn’t like, and apparently he didn’t like very many people. Why he was this way Miluiel had no idea; she feared she and Oropher worked too much and he resented them for, acting out to prove his point, but Runa would be happy to let Miluiel know things were looking up for her son. He was being an angel, so far.

“You have raised the perfect child, Mrs. Bowman.” Thranduil said and she turned to him with a wide grin.

“I have? You think so?”

“Oh, yes.” The blonde said with a resolute nod. “He is pretty and kind and smart; he reads _so_ good –or, well. I think that’s more proper…properer.”

“More proper is right, and that’s such a nice thing for you to say. You should tell him. I’m sure he thinks those things about you too.”

“Mm, I don’t think so. I can barely read, but I’m trying to learn to do it better.”

“Ma!” Bard’s voice called and both Runa and Thranduil poked their heads up in response.

“Bard, honey, don’t yell. Come here.” Runa answered.

“I just need to know where my hat is! I don’t wanna come down without my hat!”

“Check the closet in the hall.”

Silence…and then a pattering of feet coming down the stairs. Bard came into the kitchen, practically bouncing with every step and Thranduil stood (it seemed like the polite thing to do). Thranduil’s heart fluttered – Bard looked _so cute_ wearing a green t-shirt with his shorts, and what topped it all off was the blue baseball cap he wore backward on his head, his curls sticking out here and there underneath.

“Hey, Thranduil!” he greeted and Thranduil peeped a “hi” back, feeling very overdressed by the look Bard was giving him. “You’re gonna get your nice clothes dirty. Do you wanna wear some of mine? Ma, can Thranduil wear my clothes so his don’t get dirty?”

“That’s a good idea; your clothes may be a bit big, but I’m sure your parents would much prefer you keeping your nice outfit clean.”

“My tie is eggplant.” Thranduil blurted and Bard giggled at him.

“No it isn’t, it’s a tie!”

“No, honey, eggplant is a color. It’s a kind of purple.” Runa corrected and Bard quirked a brow.

“Hm. That’s weird. I didn’t know there were other names for purple.”

“Mmhm, there are a bunch: eggplant, lavender, lilac, violet, mauve, indigo – well, indigo is considered a shade of blue, too. Shades of blue include navy, sky, lapis, cobalt, cerulean, teal-”

“Whoa, you’re talking pretty fast.” Bard cut in and put his hand on Thranduil’s shoulder with a smile. “I have a lot of different colored shirts you can wear! Maybe I even have a…a, uhm…a teal one, maybe.”

“Can I show your dad my outfit first?”

“Huh? Why?”

“Of course you can.” Runa spoke up, understanding the message Thranduil was trying to deliver; he wanted to impress to Bowmans, it was clear. “Bard, go take him out to say hi to your father and then come back to change. I’ll try to find some clothes that will fit Thranduil that won’t be too big.”

Runa went upstairs and the boys left out the backdoor after Bard shoved his feet into his sneakers. Thranduil was nearly blinded as he stepped outside, the sunbeams bringing great luster to the huge field in front of him. It was very plain, but also…magical, in a strange way. A big, red, and loud vehicle stopped in front of the porch, casting a large shadow over the two boys. Now that Thranduil could see, he could tell that the red machine was a tractor and on top of it was the man himself: Mr. Bowman.

“Hi, da!” Bard spoke loudly as he waved.

Brent climbed down, wiping his brow and his neck with a cloth he took from his pocket and then patting Bard on the head.

“Hey, kiddo. What are you guys up to?”

“Nothin’. We’re gonna play outside, but ma is gonna find some other clothes for Thranduil first.” Bard explained and Brent nodded, his eyes falling on the blonde boy whose posture was nothing but upright.

“You’re looking very sharp, young man.” Brent commented and Thranduil smiled.

“Thank you, Mr. Bowman, sir!”

“His tie is eggplant.” Bard added and Brent laughed.

“And a fine tie it is. Come along, let’s get inside and see if the Mrs. Has found something for you to wear while you play outside. We’ll have to coat you with bug spray too, so you don’t get eaten up!”

Brent tickled the back of their necks and made buzzing noises, making the boys giggle and run inside as they made their escape from the “bees” attacking them.

 

Thranduil changed into the t-shirt and shorts Runa gave him and he felt odd; the orange shirt was big on him, hanging almost to his knees. He tucked the shirt into his new shorts that were luckily not too large and pulled his hair back. After Runa sprayed their arms, their backs, legs, and shoes with bug spray, they were let loose onto the land. Bard grabbed him by the hand and ran from the back porch and raced through the grass blades excitedly. Thranduil kept up so they were running side by side.

“Where are we going?” Thranduil huffed.

“You’ve gotta meet somebody!”

“Meet somebody? Who else is there?”

“My little brother!”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

What Thranduil saw when Bard stopped was no little brother, but a fenced in pen of pigs. He stayed behind, puzzled and reluctant to approach such a dirty area, as Bard hopped up on the fence and waved his hand at the pigs.

“Bard, careful! You’ll fall, you dummy!” Thranduil scolded and the brunette laughed at him.

“No I won’t, I do this all the time! Come ‘ere Dusty, come ‘ere!”

“So, you have…pigs?” Thranduil asked, his face scrunching unintentionally, and Bard nodded at him.

“Of course I do, silly! I live on a farm!”

“And your brother lives with the pigs?”

“No, my brother _is_ a pig!”

“Huh? But that doesn’t make any – HUAAAH!”

Thranduil screamed so high that his own ears rang as a fleshy, snorting pink ball was suddenly thrust into his face and he fell back straight onto his bum. As soon as he fell, he was right back up on his feet which were peddling back toward the house as fast as they could carry him. He was so startled, so humiliated! His arms whirled around like propellers as he ran and it really did look ridiculous, but he was too caught up in his pitiful wailing to care.

He was such a mess that he tripped over his own foot and stayed on the ground, hoping a hole would just open up in the ground and swallow him. He bawled until a small shadow fell over him and quieted his whimpering. He looked up to see his beautiful love gazing down at him with his eyebrow raised. He was also holding the same pig that had scared him so badly in his arms. The thing looked harmless, yes. He’d just been caught off his guard!

“Are you okay?” Bard asked and knelt in the grass. His vision was fixed on Thranduil even as he pet the pig. The other found its way to Thranduil's shoulder. The blonde paused, catching his breath and wiping what was left of his tears. Geeze. Bard was so nice. He didn’t even laugh at him for screaming _or_ falling.

“Yeah, I-I’m okay.” Thranduil replied with a sure nod and Bard smiled. The blonde couldn’t help himself and smiled too. Bard was so pretty, with his freckles and his hat and his curls. He wanted to…he wanted to kiss him right then! But the squealing pig didn’t really fit into the picture. No, it wasn’t the right time.

“You look lots better when you smile.” Bard said and Thranduil noticed his face growing warm.

“I like your smile too…I-I like you!”

“Hee hee, well yeah, I like you too!”

But no, I _love_ you…loooove you! Thranduil wanted to say it, but he wouldn’t. When he told Bard how much he loved him, everything had to be perfect.

“Dusty likes you too, you know. Or, I think he will. He likes everybody.” Bard said, referring to the animal panting and oinking in his lap. Thranduil just stared at it…him…whatever. “What’s the matter?”

“I’ve never seen a pig before. Do they bite?”

“HA HA, NO!” Bard laughed enthusiastically, rocking back and laying down as he did so with the pig sitting on his belly. The animal rose on its four legs and climbed over his human brother to trot straight into Thranduil’s lap. The blonde gasped and then yelled out in surprise as Dusty’s wet, wiggling nose pressed into his cheek. “See, he does like you! I’m glad, because now we can all be brothers!”

“Brothers?”

The idea was mortifying. If he and Bard were brothers, they could never get married!!! Certainly marrying your brother was against the law! But they couldn’t really be brothers, could they? They didn’t have the same parents. But still, Dusty the pig was somehow Bard’s brother, apparently…none of this made any sense.

“But I don’t wanna be brothers!” Thranduil blurted and quickly made something up as Bard looked at him strangely. “I mean…can’t we just be friends instead? I hear that brothers fight sometimes and I don’t wanna fight.”

“Do they? Me and Dusty don’t fight, do we?” Bard said, taking the dear pig into his arms and kissing his head.

“I mean, like, people brothers.”

“Oh. How do you know?”

“I’ve met some and they fought a lot.”

“Well, we’ll be friends then. _Best_ friends!”

“Yeah, best friends!” Thranduil agreed.

“But best friends are forever. You know that, right?”

“Sure I do!”

“Then we gotta pinky promise on it.” Bard extended his arm and poked out his pinky. Thranduil gladly linked his pinky with Bard’s and they shook on it. “Yay, its official then! Come on, let’s go play some more!”

The two leapt right up and ran out far across the wide field that was Bard’s back yard with Dusty the pig following them. He was oddly obedient, for a pig. He was more like a dog, Thranduil figured from his knowledge of dogs. He trailed their every move as they wandered around and picked out spots for the great upcoming battle from There and Back Again. Dusty stayed close to their feet, knocking them with his head and ticking them with his nose as he snorted on them. He really wasn’t so bad. He was dirty, yes, but he was actually kind of cute once you got used to him. His twisty tail was the most adorable thing about him and it reminded Thranduil of Bard’s curly hair. What would Bard look like with pink hair? He would look wonderful no matter what color hair he had, but pink would be very interesting.

 

Before going inside, Dusty had to be put back into the pig pen with all of the other pigs. Bard opened up the gate and shuffled inside, nudging Dusty inside, who was stubborn to enter. He probably just wanted to roam around and play some more. Thranduil watched as the brunette struggled to get the pig in. He thought about helping, but the pig pen was gross and yucky with mud and dirt. Bard finally heaved Dusty up into his arms and plopped him inside, getting mud splashed on his shoes and his legs. Thranduil gasped at the sight. Bard didn’t even seem to notice as he waved goodbye to his pig friend and closed and locked the gate.

“You’ve got…you’ve got mud on you!” Thranduil said, pointing frantically to the brown spots clinging to his crush. Bard looked down and swiped at some of the clumps, but not all of them. “You missed some!”

“So?” Bard said with a shrug. “It’s just mud and stuff.”

“But that’s bad! It’s dirty! You’ll get sick!”

“Nu uh. Mud doesn’t make you sick…maybe if you eat it, but I’m not going to do that. The piggies roll around in it.”

“And they poop in it!” Thranduil refuted and Bard laughed. Why on Earth was he laughing?! That wasn’t funny! It was disgusting! “What?” he asked, crossing his arms and pouting a little. Was there something Bard knew that he didn’t? Sure, he didn’t know much of anything about farms and pigs, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Are you afraid of getting dirty?” Bard teased and Thranduil’s lips tightened as his cheeks flared with warmth.

“No!”

“Then let’s play in the pig pen!”

“In the poop? That’s crazy!”

“We shovel the poop, silly.”

“Eeew.”

“So there’s none in there, come on! The pigs roll around in it cause it’s fun and it cools them down. It’s not so bad.” Bard was unlocking the gate as he spoke and the blonde got a nervous lump in his throat. He was sweating profusely and he became even more anxious when Bard grabbed his hand and stepped forward. “Come on!”

Thranduil moved as little as possible as Bard yanked him along lightly, not wanting to willingly step inside such a place. He cringed as he heard and felt the brown slush slosh under his feet. He wanted to puke.

“It’s okay, don’t be scared.” Bard said with a smile.

“I’m not scared of dirt.” Thranduil replied stiffly and Bard let go of his hand.

He gasped and grabbed for the hand that left him, clutching it desperately. Bard giggled a little. No, no, _no!_ This wasn’t how things were supposed to go! Thranduil wasn’t _scared…_ okay, even if he was, he _really_ didn’t want to look like he was. Bard probably thought he was prissy and uncool. Thranduil didn’t know what to do. His heart was slamming fast in his small chest and he started to panic. He let go of Bard’s hand; their hand holding and Bard’s loveliness wasn’t enough to calm him. He turned quick on his heel and wanted to dash right out into the safety of the grassy field, but Dusty zoomed right in front of him, startling him and sending him falling back. His bum and hands squished into the mud and he gasped, _horrified_ , before letting out a deathly scream.

This was what hell must be like and Dusty was the devil.


End file.
